


'How to Seduce Your Man'

by Cryptand_Bismol



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Cas uses Cosmo tips, Castiel (Supernatural) is Not Innocent, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, First Date, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Light Angst, Lucifer is dead, M/M, Masturbation, Michael is gone, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Post-Season/Series 13 AU, gabriel is alive, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-08-05 09:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptand_Bismol/pseuds/Cryptand_Bismol
Summary: "After much deliberation and weeks of sexual frustration, Castiel reasoned he had the answer; Dean thought Cas didn’t like sex. But now it was up to Cas to show him that he really, really, wanted to be intimate with Dean, if he could only work out how to approach the situation.Which is why he was borrowing Jack’s new laptop, browser opened in incognito mode, scrolling through article after article on ‘how to seduce your man’. Some of the tips did seem odd, but when his only sexual experience had been with a reaper who killed him, he deferred to their ‘wisdom’ on the matter. "





	1. Touch him Often!

Things had been _good._ Ever since they’d trapped Michael in the apocalypse world and killed Lucifer, life had settled into something almost peaceful. Sure, there were still monsters to hunt, a few renegade angels to smite, but there was no impending doom looming over them for once. They were just a normal family of hunters.

So really, there were no more excuses left.

Castiel knew that Dean loved him, and he had told Dean how he felt all those years ago after nearly dying again, yet still they danced around each other, nothing but meaningful glances and affectionate words.

God did Castiel long for more. And he’d be damned if Dean didn’t feel the same with the way his eyes trailed down to his lips when he talked or lingered on his ass when he chose to forgo the trench coat. So why hadn’t he done anything about it?

After much deliberation and weeks of sexual frustration, Castiel reasoned he had the answer; Dean thought Cas didn’t like sex. To be fair to the man, the last and only time he’d engaged in intimacy it had been with a reaper who literally killed him, so it was almost logical to assume that he might be a little put off by the whole experience. But now it was up to Cas to show him that he really, _really,_ wanted to be intimate with Dean, if he could only work out how to approach the situation.

He had toyed with the idea of simply telling Dean this, even stripping himself bare and spreading out on Dean’s bed so he would get the picture, but it seemed too abrupt an end to what essentially boiled down to ten years of build-up. No, they deserved something a little more than a sleazy pick up line and a proposition.

Which is why Cas was borrowing Jack’s new laptop, browser opened in incognito mode, scrolling through article after article on ‘how to seduce your man’. Some of the tips did seem odd, but again when his only sexual experience had been with his murderer, he deferred to their ‘wisdom’ on the matter.

 

**XXXXX**

 

_“Touch him often! The more often you touch him – and we’re not talking obvious caresses here – the more he’ll want to touch you back. If you want to know how to seduce a man with touch, focus on resting your fingers on his forearm, gently squeezing his biceps (oh my! what big muscles you have!), or laying your hand on his shoulder or back. Try it and see if he reciprocates within a few minutes.”_

Ok, he could do this. In fact, he already touched Dean every now and then, mainly on the place where his handprint used to rest. It would certainly be no hardship to touch Dean more.

The next morning when he shuffled into the kitchen Dean was getting coffee, scratching at the barely-there stubble as he poured it into the mug Jack had gotten him as an impromptu present last week (adorned with a little blue alien and a quote that said ‘ _Ohana means family, and family means no-one gets left behind_ ’ that Jack had sweetly said reminded him of Dean, and no matter what Dean said Cas saw the wetness of his eyes at the gift). He was still in his pyjamas, black sleep shorts and a faded t-shirt, bare feet and sleepy demeanour endlessly endearing. Cas thought back to the article as he approached Dean, resting his hand on the small of his back as he brushed past, keeping it there like an anchor as he reached to grab his own mug from the cupboard (another gift from Jack, a little picture of the green alien from Star Wars emblazoned on it with the words ‘ _Yoda Best Dad_ ’).

Dean looked over to him, surprised, eyes trailing along his body as he stretched just a little more than he needed to and leaned back ever-so-slightly into the touch, “Morning sunshine,” he croaked out, voice still thick with sleep, “Want me to make you some breakfast? I was thinking something simple, just bacon and eggs.”

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said as he set the mug on the countertop, hand slipping from his back up to rest on his hip as Dean turned towards him, “Breakfast would be much appreciated, yes.”

Smiling happily, Dean brought his hand up to stroke down the length of Cas’ arm, letting the touch linger even as he was pulling away, “Awesome dude, I’ll rustle up enough for Sammy and Jack too.”

That was rather successful, Castiel mused as he watched Dean humming to himself while he got breakfast ready, though he would have to repeat the experiment just to be sure.

 

**XXXXX**

 

He decided to put his plan into action at their weekly movie night. When there wasn’t a pressing case on Dean, Sam and Jack would join him in front of the TV and watch movies, most of the time with Dean trying to introduce Jack and Cas to his favourite films. Cas loved these nights with his little family and loved them even more when he and Dean would sit a little too close to each other on the sofa, smiling softly at each other.

But tonight was the night he was going to step it up a notch. Sam was fiddling about on his laptop, presumably trying to set up the evening’s entertainment from his seat. Dean was already in his usual spot in the corner of the sofa, beer bottle resting between his knees, while Jack had taken the other end with a bowl of toffee popcorn in his lap, leaving the middle free for Cas. The angel patted Jack’s shoulder affectionately as he passed before stepping over his lanky legs and lowering himself onto the couch cushions.

Dean turned his head to smile at him, “Hey Cas.”

“Hello Dean,” he replied and, before he could overthink it, placed his hand on Dean’s knee, thumb caressing ever so slightly, “What are we watching tonight?”

The hunter floundered for a moment, looking from Cas’ hand back up to his face, but far from recoiling from the touch his grin widened, and he bumped his shoulder against Cas, “Gonna introduce Jack to the wonder that is Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones.”

“Ah, the man with the whip and the cowboy hat?” he asked, Metatron’s unwanted pop culture lesson returning to him, “He was also the attractive man in Star Wars, correct?”

“He was Han Solo?” Jack perked up from beside them, “I liked him a lot! He reminded me of you, Dean.”

Dean was trying not to look too smug at the comment and failing spectacularly, “Yeah, well that makes Sam here Chewbacca; he certainly has the hair for it.”

“Real funny, Dean,” Sam grumbled from his chair, “Are you three going to gush over the dude all night or can we actually watch the movie?”

They quickly settled down as the opening credits rolled, though Cas kept his hand on Dean’s knee and even let it creep up towards his thigh, warmth spreading through him when Dean covered the hand with his own and gave him a shy smile.

Cas watched fondly when joy spread across Jack’s face at finding out Marion was alive, while Dean was radiating pride and satisfaction when the Nephilim gasped and laughed in all the right places. Jack was literally on the edge of his seat when Indiana and Marion were captured at the end and almost looked at the Ark, so immersed that he covered his eyes as though he was there, peeking out from behind his fingers.

As soon as the movie ended Jack was bounding over to Sam and begging him to play it again, “Please Sam, I enjoyed that very, very much!”

“Woah there, there’s actually three more sequels we can watch.” Sam said, already clicking onto the _Temple of Doom_.

Jack looked like all his wishes had come true at the news, eyes wide, “There’s more?!”

Cas could feel Dean’s amused chuckle, “Yeah kid, though you might want to skip the fourth movie, it sucks.”

“You’re only saying that because Harrison Ford is an old man in it.” Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean scowled, “No, I’m saying it because aliens? Really?”

“Like that’s less believable than God melting Nazi’s faces off.”

“Dude, we _met_ God! We’ve seen angels burning people’s eyes out! There’s an angel and his son in the room with you right now!” he said, gesturing wildly with his free hand, but keeping the other clasped around Cas’.

“Well you have to admit that a few years ago that wasn’t believable to you either. I mean you didn’t believe in angels until you met Cas. Just because we haven’t met aliens doesn’t mean they’re not real.”

“I’m not saying aliens definitely aren’t real, I’m saying they didn’t build weird spaceships on earth thousands of years ago and left weird psychic crystal skulls lying around. At least the Ark or the Holy Grail or even those glowing statues make some sort of sense.” Dean paused, an idea forming, “Cas, you’ve been around for all of human civilisation; is there a freaky alien pyramid lying around somewhere?”

“Yes, of course. In fact, the Egyptian pyramids were built according to extra-terrestrial specifications, to be used as instructions or way markers for other visiting interplanetary beings.” Cas deadpanned, looking Dean in the eyes.

“What?” both Dean and Sam said in shock, staring intently at the angel.

Cas’ lips quirked up, “That was a joke,” he whispered conspiratorially to Dean, leaning in closer.

After a beat Sam snorted and shook his head, turning back to his laptop to set up the movie. Jack seemed a little confused with the conversation, but he was too pleased to be watching the next movie to dwell too much on anything, settling back in his chair with his beloved popcorn.

Dean was still looking at Cas. He huffed out a laugh and squeezed Cas’ hand, before letting go and draping his arm across his angel’s shoulders, “You almost got me there Cas. You been watching those crazy history channel documentaries?”

“I find conspiracy theories very creative.”

Even as Dean turned back to the screen with a chuckle, Cas couldn’t take his eyes off his face.

He carried on staring until Sam began to speak, “Y’know, I never got why he suddenly went from fighting Nazis to being in India. Like he just had the existence of God proved to him and he’s not even bothered.” He said as the inflatable raft plunged down the mountain side.

“Sammy, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a prequel. You have to know Temple of Doom is a prequel to Raiders. As my brother you _have_ to know that.”

“How am I supposed to know that? Not everyone is obsessed like you, Dean.”

“It literally says the date at the start of the movie!”

“And the date at the start of the other one was like 2 hours ago, why would I pay attention to when it was?”

Cas tuned the bickering brothers out, leaning further into Dean’s warmth and smiling at Jack trying to turn the volume up with his powers.

Tip one was definitely a success. 


	2. Send Seductive Texts!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to address this but I guess Cas is like half-power in this? He can still use his grace to sustain him but because it requires so much effort he's just like eh I'll sleep and eat. Physically coffee doesn't really do anything for it, but it's like a psychological thing where coffee=awake

Movie night had certainly broken down any barriers about touching for both Dean and Cas, the past few weeks always finding Dean sitting even closer to Cas, his arm around him more often than not. In the Impala, when Cas was sitting shotgun, Dean would often place his hand on Cas’ knee, or arm across the backseat when he was reversing, making sure to drop it a bit too low to brush against his shoulders. When they would walk together he would always press his hand to Cas’ lower back, but it didn’t seem possessive so much as a need to be close. No, possessive was when a waitress would flash Cas a flirty smile and Dean would touch him as much as possible, making their hands brush more times than could ever be accidental, practically turning his whole body to face him as they sat next to each other in the booth. These times would always leave Sam feeling like a third wheel, rolling his eyes fondly.

Not to say that Cas didn’t initiate his own fair share of touching. He would still rest his hand on the faded-mark when Dean needed comfort but let his hand trail down the whole length of his arm, holding his hand gently and squeezing it once or twice before letting go. Whenever he was in the backseat, he would sit behind Dean and brush his hand over Dean’s back when he leant forward to talk to the brothers. Sometimes on hunts, when they were sneaking along corridors or a darkened graveyard, weapons at the ready, Cas would take Dean’s hand, so they could guide each other, words of caution replaced with a tap of the finger or the squeeze of the hand.

But as much as Cas loved the intimacy of the arm around his shoulders or sweetness of the hand-holding, he needed Dean to know that he was open to touches of a more carnal nature and would be especially receptive to kissing.

Which is how Cas found himself back on Jack’s laptop, trying to ignore the more outlandish suggestions of donning lingerie or buying sex toys. He needed to get Dean into thinking about sex with him before he pursued that line of thinking.

He was just reading through a particularly interesting study about pumpkin pie when there was a knock at his door. He hastily closed the laptop, shoving it under his pillow as he called out, “Coming!”  

It was Dean, he found when he pulled open the door, standing almost guiltily in the doorway.

“Dean? Are you alright?” Cas asked, watching him run a hand across his face with a frown.

 “Yeah, Cas, everything is good.” Dean replied, “Mind if I come in?”

In lieu of an answer, Cas opened the door wider and headed towards the bed, Dean joining him with only a moment’s hesitation. They sat side by side on the edge of the mattress, shoulders brushing. Dean fidgeted with his hands in his lap, and Cas dropped his hand to curl around his wrist, skin cool against his warm palm.

“Mom called,” Dean began, “She wants us to go visit her. In Minnesota.”

“Oh? When are we leaving?”

 Dean huffed derisively, looking down at his hands, “Well, that’s the thing, actually, she wants it to be just me and Sam. A real ‘Winchester Vacation’ or whatever.”

“I see.”

“I just don’t get her at all, man. All that time she spent with Jack in the apocalypse world, you’d think she’d realise that you and Jack are family too. But as soon as I said what about you two, she made up some bullshit excuse about ‘just wanting to be with her boys’. And what sucks the most is that I can’t even say no, because if I don’t see her now, when will be the next time? Will there even be a next time?”

“Dean, I’m sure she’s trying to make amends for her past actions, in her own way.” Cas tried to reassure, shifting his hand down to tangle their fingers together.

“Yeah, if she was that serious about it she’d have stuck around after the whole crap with Michael, not run off _again._ ”

“I know this isn’t easy, for either of you, but all human relationships by nature are complicated, and challenging. It won’t be perfect overnight, but as long as both of you are willing to try to fix things, they can get better.”

Dean was quiet for a while, contemplative. Cas could see the moment he reached some kind of peace with the situation, the tenseness of his shoulders loosening and a heaving a sigh, “I guess you’re right,” He finally looked at the angel and give him a small smile, “Though you say human relationships are hard, have you met your family? Angels are ten times as dramatic as humans.”

“Yes, for all that Lucifer and Michael looked down on humanity, they had more in common with them than they thought.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence again, hands still entwined on Dean’s lap.

“When did Mary want you to visit?”

“Tomorrow, apparently. Nice of her to give us some notice,” Dean rolled his eyes, “I would have pushed it back, so we could have a bit of time to convince her about you and Jack, but Sammy had already said yes. Hell, half the reason I’m going is because he’s so excited about it.”

“Do you know what she has planned?”

“Not a clue. We could be monster hunting, we could be going on a ski vacation. She wants us to stay for a while. Though I say a week, at most. I don’t want to be away for any longer than that.”

“I’m sure Jack and I can hold down the fort for as long you need if you want to stay longer.”

“I don’t doubt it. But I meant I don’t want to be away from you. You- you were gone too long before. I don’t really want a reminder of that.” Dean’s voice caught in his throat.

“Dean. I’ll be here, I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” Cas reassured, daring to bring his hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. It was cool beneath his palm, the barely-there stubble scratching pleasantly against his skin.

“Good. That’s- good.” Dean turned his gaze to him, eyes flicking down to his lips and making Cas giddy with want, “I’ll miss you.”

He began to lean in but paused a few inches from Cas’ face for a beat. Whatever thoughts he was battling were thrown quickly aside though, and as Cas closed his eyes he felt Dean press his lips so sweetly and chastely to the corner of his mouth. He held there for a long moment, content to feel Cas’ hitched breath while Cas squeezed his hand tightly. He ducked his head when he pulled back, though the smile on his face was unmistakable.

It was so gentle and sweet that Cas had to take a moment to calm, his eyes still closed, and breathing a little laboured. Eventually he let his eyes open, blinking to get used to the light and the blinding grin on Dean’s face. His voice was rough when he spoke, “I’ll call you.”

Dean laughed, loud and beautiful, “Never change Cas,” he said, dragging his thumb across the back of Cas’ hand, “We’re leaving at 8am, if you want to say a proper goodbye. That is if you can get out of bed before midday.”

“I _can_ , I just choose not to,” he grumbled, “So what if I do wake up in time? What constitutes a proper goodbye?”

“Hmm, you’ll have to wait and find out.” Dean said cheekily, savouring the feel of Cas’ skin, before hauling himself up from the bed and heading towards the door, “See you then, Angel.”

He pulled the door open and left Castiel grinning on the bed.

Oh, he was definitely receptive to Dean’s kisses.

 

**XXXXX**

Cas couldn’t deny that even that innocent kiss drove him crazy. It was just a shame that he wouldn’t see Dean for a week to have many, many more repeat performances. He dragged the laptop out from under the pillow, ready to lay the tips to rest at least until Dean got back but stopped when he caught sight of one of the suggestions.

_“Send seductive texts! The secret to knowing how to seduce a man is realizing that not all seduction happens in person. You can also fascinate him via text. The key here is not to be blatantly sexual but to use innuendo to get him thinking sexy without pushing for it. Leave lots of blanks for him to fill in._

_I had a dream about you last night…_

_Do you know what I’d do if you were here?_

_I’m still thinking about that fantastic kiss. Wow!”_

Huh. Well that was an idea. He would much rather he see Dean’s reactions when he broached such intimate topics, but there wasn’t much he could do about that until Dean returned.

He closed the browser and made sure that Jack couldn’t see what he had been researching; he trusted his son, but sometimes he was a little blunt and didn’t understand social cues. Much like himself when he first met the Winchesters, he thought, amused.

He set the laptop on his bedside table, following the smell of Dean’s cooking to the kitchen, happy they could have a nice meal together before the brothers left.

 

**XXXXX**

As it turns out he _did_ wake up on time to say goodbye, but only because Dean brought him coffee half an hour before they were due to leave. And, ok, Cas may have threatened to smite him because if Dean was like an angry bear in the morning, Cas was like an incensed Chupacabra, but Dean had pressed the coffee cup into his hand and a kiss onto his cheek and left him to get ready.

He was still a little grumpy when he met Sam, Dean, and Jack in the hallway, but it was hard to stay that way when he saw the hug Jack was giving Sam.

“I hope you have a nice time, Sam. Can you tell your mother that I miss her and hope to see her soon?” Jack said, muffled into his shoulder, “I hope she enjoys the present I got her.”

“Of course, Jack. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Sam patted his shoulder fondly.

Jack turned to Dean, hesitation clear as he only rose his arms a little, but Dean shook his head and pulled the boy in for a hug too, “I’ll miss you, kid.”

“I will miss you too, Dean.” He said delightedly, gripping his jacket just a little too tightly. Dean didn’t have the heart to tell him so, though, and instead tapped his back affectionately.

When he pulled away, Dean’s eyes locked onto Cas, taking in the ruffled curls and oversized robe, a heated smile forming on his lips.

Sam took one look at the stare the two were sharing and cleared his throat, “Uh, hey Jack? Would you help me bring the last few things to the car?”

Jack nodded and happily followed Sam with some bags, leaving Cas and Dean alone.

“I told you I could wake up before noon.” Cas said, stepping into Dean’s personal space, and wrapping his arms around him.

“I’m impressed. Even if you had a bit of help.”

“Hmm, you were very nice to wake up to.”

Dean rested his forehead against Cas’, nose rubbing softly against his cheek, “Oh really? I vividly remember you telling me that you were going to smite me for waking you up.”

“Yes, well, if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t have even given you warning.”

“Reassuring.” He hummed, finally giving in to the urge and pressing his lips to Cas’, his hands roaming across his back.

Cas ran his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips, pushing Dean gently back against the wall. He moaned into Cas’ mouth, letting his tongue explore. Dean was very obviously willing, and very enthusiastic, but his hands stayed chaste above the waist, and Cas could tell he was holding back a little from the kiss.

Feeling bold, Cas pulled back from his mouth and locked him a heated gaze. He stopped the movement of Dean’s hand, gently taking him by the wrists and preparing to guide the explorative hands to places decided less chaste.

If not for the pointed slamming of the bunker door.

They stilled, Dean’s wrists still immobilised in Cas’ grasp, glancing up to see Sam and Jack descending the stairs. Sam was trying very hard not to look in their direction, but Jack was looking at them with his head tilted and a quirk to his lips.

Dean cleared his throat, gently disentangling himself from Cas’ hands and picking up his travel bag, “I’ll see you later, Cas,” he said, deliberating for a moment before leaning in to give Cas one last lingering kiss.

“Right!” Sam clapped his hands, “We better head off.”

Reluctantly pulling away, Dean headed up the stairs, throwing a wink at Cas over his shoulder and disappearing out of sight.

Sam watched him go, then gave Cas a brief hug and a supportive look, following Dean, and closing the door behind him.

“You and Dean are in a romantic relationship?” Jack asked curiously into the silence of the room.

“We are, Jack.” Cas replied with a grin.

“Does that mean you are going to get married?”

“I- er, not right now, no.”

“Do you not want to get married? I thought that was the natural progression of a romantic relationship? Courtship, marriage, and then children together.” Jack frowned in confusion.

“I would love to marry Dean someday, but we are in the early stages of our relationship. There is no time limit on things like these, but I believe it is customary to wait a year before proposing.” He explained as they walked back through to the kitchen, “And there is no set formula for a relationship. Some people have children before they are married, or even when they are not romantically involved.”

“Like my mother and... my biological father.”

“Or like Dean and I. We both take parental responsibility for you, even before we were in a relationship. Sam too, even though neither of us have any intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with him.”

He looked pleased as he collected a bowl and the cereal from the cupboard before taking a seat at the table, “I see. So, I technically have three fathers?”

“I’m sure Sam and Dean would be honoured you think of them that way,” Cas said, passing him the milk, and settling across from him with another cup of coffee, “Though perhaps ask them first before you call them ‘Dad’.”

 

**XXXXX**

The drive to visit Mary was going to be a long one, Cas knew, so he wasn’t surprised that Dean hadn’t texted him yet; it was only just nearly lunch-time after all. While a little disappointed, he was mostly thankful it gave him the time to think about what he was going to text Dean that was seductive but not obviously so. Subtly was not his strong point at all.

He decided that the example given in the article was very fitting for his current scenario, having been thinking of the feel of Dean’s lips and the warmth of his body ever since he left the bunker.

_I’m still thinking about that fantastic kiss. Wow!_

There. Very apt. He was hoping that if Dean _hadn’t_ been thinking about the enthusiastic goodbye before, he would be reminded of how wonderful it was once he finally picked up his phone.

 

**XXXXX**

Cas was watching a nature documentary with Jack, the latter tucking in to the sandwiches he’d proudly made himself, when his phone buzzed twice on the table beside him.

**_I normally hate goodbyes, but I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance_ **

**_Preferably without actually having to say goodbye of course_ **

He grinned to himself, fingers tapping across the phone keyboard.

_That can be arranged._

Setting the phone back down, he hoped that his response was suitably seductive. Dean’s reply didn’t arrive for a little while, long enough for Cas to get engrossed in the mating ritual of a particularly cute spider, the buzz startling him a little.

**_How was your morning?_ **

Ok, it wasn’t the sort of reply he was expecting, but he could try again, and hope Dean understood.

_I spent most of it thinking about you._

**_Yeah? I was thinking about you too._ **

**_It’s weird not seeing you and Jack in the back seat._ **

Cas frowned. That was quite sweet, which was nice, but he’d prefer if they didn’t talk about his son when he was trying to get Dean to think about sex. Third time’s the charm.

_I can think of something me and you could do in the back seat together._

There. He _had_ to understand now, the only way he could be any clearer was if he texted the words ‘I want to have sex with you’.

His reply did not come for a long time, each passing second making Cas tenser.

**_Sorry Cas, we’ve got to hit the road again_ **

**_I’ll call you tonight x_ **

That was it? He frowned down at his phone at the blatant dismissal, but his eyes kept wandering to the kiss at the end of the sentence. If this was a rejection of his sexual advances, why would Dean send him a kiss?

Unless... unless he really did have to drive again, and the final message meant they’ll continue this tonight?

Either way, Cas looked forward to hearing his voice again tonight.

 

**XXXXX**

****

Dean’s phone had buzzed about 10 miles out from the next town, his eyes flicking to the lock screen where it rested on the seat beside him.

“Check who that is, would ya Sammy?”

With any luck it would be Mary cancelling this disaster waiting to happen. He was still sceptical about her, even after everything that had happened since her resurrection, but Sam had practically begged him to go and he couldn’t refuse when he brought out the puppy dog eyes.

“Uh, it’s Cas.” Sam said haltingly from beside him, emphatically placing the phone face down again.

“Well, what did he say?”

“Yeah, I’m not reading the weird sexts he sends you out loud.”

He almost swerved off the road, “What? Cas doesn’t- We haven’t- Cas doesn’t send sexts.”

“Sure.” Sam intoned, “Look, you can find out what he said later, preferably when you’re not going to drive us into a ditch.”

“I’d never do such a thing to Baby,” Dean scoffed, “Besides, there’s a burger joint on the other side of town we can stop at soon.”

“You know, you’ve mostly survived the past ten years of monsters and heaven and hell, it’s going to be real anticlimactic when you die of a coronary.”

He rolled his eyes, “Shut up, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

**XXXXX**

_I’m still thinking about that fantastic kiss. Wow!_

Dean opened the message Cas had sent to him, mouth curled into a grin. Trust Sam to think talking about kissing was sexting. Though, he supposed, it may as well have been when it came to Cas.

To be honest, he was relieved that Cas seemed to enjoy himself this morning. He hadn’t wanted to push the angel, especially with everything he’d been through regarding relationships, so it was beyond hot to see him take control of the kiss and practically pin him to the wall.

**_I normally hate goodbyes, but I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance_ **

**_Preferably without actually having to say goodbye of course_ **

_That can be arranged._

The reply was almost instantaneous, and Dean nearly choked on his coffee at the confident, flirty reply. God, Cas didn’t even know what he did to him. What could he say to that? That he’d like to arrange it in his bed? That he would love it if next time involved less clothes?

No. Cas wasn’t like that. He’d shown no interest in sex since the reaper girl, and even if he was interested, they’d only just kissed properly this morning. No, Cas deserved time, and patience. He didn’t need Dean projecting his own desires onto every word.

**_How was your morning?_ **

_I spent most of it thinking about you._

**_Yeah? I was thinking about you too._ **

**_It’s weird not seeing you and Jack in the back seat._ **

He missed catching Cas’ eye in the rear-view mirror, or their closeness when he rode shotgun. He missed the sass and snarky comments he’d shoot from the backseat, the annoyed (but hot) glare he would send Dean when he’d thrown himself into danger again. And he missed Jack’s enthusiastic wonder about the world, delightedly pointing out the fields of cattle or horses he saw, marvelling at the colours of the sunrise or sunset. The endless questions he had that Cas and Sam would patiently (and Dean not-so patiently) answer. Next time, he thought, next time Mary wants some family time he’ll put his foot down and tell her Jack and Cas are just as much family as him and Sam.

Sam was exasperatedly watching him devour the last of the greasy cheeseburger while he picked at his oily salad. Dean could swear he was trying to make eyes at the waitress but unfortunately for Sammy she seemed more interested in the hot brunette woman in the booth behind them, though he hadn’t seemed to notice this little detail yet.

His phone buzzed from the table, and he idly wiped off one hand on his jeans to read the message.

_I can think of something me and you could do in the back seat together._

Holy shit. Dean flushed bright red, quickly locking the screen before Sam could catch a glance at the message. He coughed into his palm, mind whirring. He could picture it; Cas pressed back into the seat, sprawled beneath him, trench coat gone and Dean’s fingers slowly opening his buttons to reveal that beautiful tanned chest. Tasting his lips, feeling him moan into his mouth as his hands slipped beneath his waistband, touching his hot, hard-

No, Dean. Stop.

Stop.

Cas probably just meant kissing. Yes, that was it, making out in the back seat. Hands firmly away from any erogenous zones or sexy parts.

“Er, Dean? You ok?” Sam asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes!” Dean half-squeaked, before clearing his throat and trying again, “Ahem, yes, fine, perfectly fine.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, “Is that why you’re blushing?”

“I’m not blushing! It’s just hot in here.”

“It’s _March_. In _Iowa._ How are you- ah,” Sam stopped himself, a smug look growing on his face, “Oh, _gross_! Sorry, what were you saying in the car? Cas doesn’t sext? Funny that.”

“It was not a sext!” Dean protested, “He obviously meant something else, and I’ve just got my head in the gutter.”

“Dean, Cas isn’t stupid. I’m sure he knew _exactly_ what he was sending.”

“He’s not into- He- I’m not having this conversation with you.” He scooped up his phone and threw some bills on the table, storming off to wait in the car. It wasn’t until he was watching Sam pointlessly leave his number on the receipt on the table for the waitress that he realised he hasn’t replied to Cas.

**_Sorry Cas, we’ve got to hit the road again_ **

**_I’ll call you tonight x_ **

****

**XXXXX**

 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean’s voice crackled down the phone, “Sorry, the reception isn’t great here.”

Cas could vaguely hear him moving about, fabric shifting like he was getting comfortable on a sofa or a bed, “Hello Dean. How was the drive?”

“Quiet, I guess. Makes a change not to have Jack playing twenty questions. How’s he getting on? He seemed quiet before we left.”

“He’s just worried about you and Sam. He cares about you two a lot.” Cas had been reading in the library when he took the call, not realising it was getting into the late evening. He stood from his seat and made his way to the kitchen, planning on making something for Jack to eat, “Actually, he told me he considers both you and Sam as his fathers too.”

The movement stopped on the other line and if not for the soft sound of Dean breathing Cas would think the call was cut. Eventually he spoke, voice quiet and trying to hide emotion, “He did?”

Cas smiled softly, “Yes. He loves you very much.”

He knew Dean struggled to come to terms with his and Jack’s current relationship, after the way he treated him in those early days. Much like he did with the other attachments in his life, he thought he didn’t deserve his love, and certainly not to the point where he sees him as a father.

Dean cleared his throat, “Well, with you being the strict one, and Sam being the push-over, I guess that makes me the cool dad.”

“Hmm, if you say so.” Cas rolled his eyes.

“Hey! I’m cool! Have you seen how awesome my car is? And I hunt monsters for a living. That’s pretty damn cool.”

“To be fair, Sam is a hunter too.”

“Sam’s a nerd. He does _research_.”

“I do research.”

“Yeah, but you’re an angel. That elevates you on the cool scale.”

“I thought you said all angels are dicks?”

“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” he could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, “But, yeah, all angels except you.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Dean.” Cas says, opening the fridge in the hopes of finding something to cook. He could hear Dean moving about again, and the buzz of a tv in the background, “So, what is Mary’s plan for the week?”

“Oh, so apparently Dad’s family used to have a chalet up in here that he and Mom used to go to when I was little and when she was pregnant with Sam. I thought I knew all of Dad’s boltholes, but I guess he never wanted to go back for whatever reason. Mom thought it would be nice for us to do the family holiday again.”

“And is it? Nice?”

“I guess. But...” He lowered his voice, “She just wants us to hang out. No monsters, no hunts. And there’s nothing to even do here, just endless board games and books. I’m going to go stir crazy within two days! At least the place has a TV. Even if it is from 1982. If she-” He cut himself off, the sound of a door opening and voices coming through the phone.

“Dean?”

“Sorry, her and Sammy just got back from getting some firewood. Thought they’d take a little longer.”

 _“Oh, is that Cas?”_ he could faintly hear Sam ask.

“Yeah, hold up, I’ll put him on speaker.” Dean said, fumbling with some buttons, before suddenly Cas could clearly hear the sound of a Western playing on the tv, and the crackling of a fire.

“Hello,” he said, setting his own phone to speaker, and placing it on the counter top, “I’ll get Jack to join us, too.”

The chatted for a while longer, Jack perking up when he heard their voices. Cas could tell that Dean was a bit guarded in the things he was saying, and Mary was somewhat stilted and awkward, but Sam and Jack talked enough to ease any tension.

Eventually Mary and Sam said their goodbyes, and Dean took him off speaker phone. Cas’ phone was still on the bench while he washed the pots and pans from the meal he made Jack, enjoying the feel of the warm water on his skin. The Nephilim was happily sipping at a cup of hot chocolate, having maintained his insatiable sweet-tooth.

“I better turn in too, Cas. It was a long drive and I’m beat.” Dean said from the other end of the phone.

“I hope you sleep well, Dean.”

“Mmm, I wish I was there to kiss you goodnight.”

Cas flushed, glancing at Jack, who was listening to the call intensely, “Dean...”

“What? I’ve been thinking about that kiss all day, too, y’know.” He could hear the smirk in Dean’s voice.

Cas swallowed, “You’re still on speaker.”

He heard Dean splutter, “Oh! Uh, sorry Jack. Um, I... I better head to bed now. Night.”

The call clicked off, and Cas kept his back to Jack, willing the colour to fade from his cheeks. He had washed the same plate three times now, but it stubbornly refused to dissipate.

“What did Dean mean?” Jack asked innocently into the silence.

“Nothing!” he yelped, blush intensifying.

Jack tilted his head and looked at him curiously, “You’re embarrassed. Oh! Was his suggestion of a sexual nature? Humans often get embarrassed when sex is the topic of conversation.”

He cleared his throat, “Yes,” was all he managed to get out. It was one thing talking objectively about sex, but something entirely different when it came to discussing his own sex life. Especially to his son.

“I think I will retire to bed now, if that’s ok with you, Father,” Jack said, unphased by the awkwardness Cas felt, standing up from the table and cleaning his mug with his powers, “I enjoyed the meal you made very much, thank you.”

“Goodnight, Jack,” he said, relieved that he’d escaped answering any more embarrassing and probing questions.

 

**XXXXX**

 

The previous day’s texts had been somewhat successful, even if there had been some embarrassment on his part. He suspected that Dean had gotten the hint, if the direction the phone call seemed to be headed was any indication, but it couldn’t hurt to cement the thought through-out the rest of the week.

Fortunately, the opportunity presented itself the next morning when he awoke from his sleep to a text from Dean.

**_Morning, Sunshine_ **

It had been a few hours since it had been sent, but Dean knew liked to sleep in late most mornings, so he wouldn’t be surprised that the reply was so late. The content of the message, now that is what he wanted to be surprising.

Taking another one of the article’s example, he tapped out the reply and thought back on the very pleasant dream he had.

_I had a dream about you last night._

**_You did?_ **

_Yes._

**_Was it a good dream?_ **

_Extremely. Though I would prefer if it happened in reality._

**_What was it about?_ **

_I think you can guess._

**_Hmm, what do you enjoy the most?_ **

**_Were we watching a movie together and eating take-out under a blanket?_ **

**_Just the two of us, of course. And after, we made out on the sofa for hours?_ **

Dean really was very sweet; even when Cas was being suggestive Dean could come out with something that made his heart swell in happiness.

_That does sound nice._

_But not quite no._

Cas rolled on his back, tucking the phone under his pillow, and resting his eyes while he waited for Dean’s reply. It was almost 11am, but he loved the feel of the sheets against his skin and the cosy warmth from being enveloped beneath the duvet, so he made the most of the days where he wasn’t dragged out of bed before dawn to hunt the monster of the week.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Dean frowned at his phone after a good half-hour of silence from Cas. Maybe he had fallen asleep again? Or as close to sleep as the angel could get, he supposed.

**_Cas?_ **

Surprisingly the reply came pretty quickly.

_You were supposed to guess._

**_Oh, right_ **

That threw him for a loop. What else would his angel have dreamed about, about him? He could suggest some of things that he’d dreamt about Cas over the years, but he was pretty sure Cas would never speak to him again. His thoughts drifted to the particularly memorable dream where Cas was spread out in his bed wearing the trench coat and _only_ the trench coat. Yeah Cas would definitely smite if for thinking about defiling his treasured coat.

_Would you like me to give you a clue?_

**_Go on_ **

_We were under a blanket, and there was some making out._

_But there instead of the sofa we were in your bed._

_Does that help?_

Cas was going to kill him. Dean was going to die from blue balls, all because of his sexy, clueless, so damn sexy boyfriend who was uninterested in sex.

**_I think I get the picture now_ **

Well, his brain did, his brain knew that Cas was Not Interested. The same could not be said for his dick, which had been half-mast at the mere thought of Cas in his bed.

**_Sorry Cas, have to go x_ **

He did not tell him that the pressing matter was just an appointment with his right hand.  

 

**XXXXX**

He hadn’t spoken to Dean on the phone that night, Mary wanting them to have a ‘technology free’ night much to the chagrin of both Sam and Dean, but they had texted a little before the technological exile, mostly about the show that Cas had been enjoying on Netflix.

So, it wasn’t until late the next morning before he decided to use one of the ‘seductive texts’ again. So far, the lines from the tip had worked reasonably well for him, so Cas had little hesitation in using the last example.

_Do you know what I’d do if you were here?_

_It would be very similar to my dream I told you about._

He set his phone aside, ready to shower, but was halted by an almost instantaneous reply. Odd. Dean usually took a while to type out a reply.

When he typed in his passcode he was surprised to see that the text was not from Dean, but from Sam.

_ Hey Cas. Could you maybe hold off on the texts to Dean right now? He’s in the bathroom, but his phone is right there on the table and both me and mom saw your last message. _

_I’m sorry, Sam._

_I shall wait until he comes back from the restroom._

_ Actually, could you maybe wait until he gets back to the cabin? And is alone? Now I know what his face looks like when he gets sexts from you I really don’t want to witness him getting another.  _

_What do you mean?_

_ On the day we drove up you sent him something that made his face beet red. It was pretty funny until he started making goo-goo eyes at the phone.  _

_He was embarrassed?_

_ I guess that’s one word for it. _

_ Look I would normally never, ever want to type these words out, but because it’s you I’ll just say it; he was ‘excited’.  _

_He was aroused?_

_ Cas man, please do not make this any harder than it has to be. _

Cas was fairly certain there was some innuendo in there that would have had Dean making a crude remark, but he chose to leave it alone.

_Apologies._

_I will refrain from propositioning Dean while you are engaging in family activities._

**XXXXX**

When Dean returned to the table, Mary avoided his eyes and Sam was looking down at his phone, almost repulsed.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes, Sammy?” he asked, sliding into the booth across from his brother.

“Next time Cas is ‘propositioning’ you by text, can you at least put your phone face down so we don’t have to read them?” Sam replied, looking at a spot just over Dean’s shoulder to avoid looking at his face.

Dean blanched, snatching up his phone and reading the texts, “Uh, what? There’s no- this isn’t a proposition!”

“That’s not what Cas said. Here, take a look.” Sam said, passing his phone over.

He read the whole conversation, flush rising on his cheeks, “Sam, what the hell!”

“See. Proposition.” He tapped the screen, as though the whole embarrassing conversation hadn’t been burned into Dean’s brain.

“He didn’t mean it like that.” He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Dean. The definition of proposition is a sexual advance towards someone. What the hell else could he mean?”

“I don’t know! Like a proposal- not that kind! But if you propose something, then that’s a proposition no matter if it’s sexual or not.”

“Maybe, but in this case, he said it directly after asking if you were aroused! Sounds pretty sexual to me.”

“We haven’t even- he wouldn’t ask- not over text!” Dean stuttered out, “His dream wasn’t even sexual!”

“Boys!” Mary finally cut in, “Can we please stop talking about this? I do not need to hear my sons talking about getting frisky!”

Sam pulled his phone back, chastised, but still a little smug.

Dean was just looking at his mother with incredulity, “Frisky? Really?”

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” she despaired, putting her face in her hands. Damn her kids could be fucking infuriating sometimes.

**XXXXX**

It wasn’t until that evening that Dean realised he hadn’t even replied to Cas’... proposition. Not that it was a proposition, of course. It must be some sort of translation error from Enochian. Yes. They must have a word for decidedly non-sexual propositioning in Enochian that translates poorly.

Either way, Dean decided to ignore the whole embarrassing situation. It wasn’t like he had anything to reply with that wasn’t ‘I nearly popped a boner at the table of a family diner thinking about you in my bed’.

So, to show Cas the he could be mature and that he didn’t only think about sex (because truthfully, he could be watching paint dry with Cas and his heart would still ache for the angel), he decided to give Cas a little non-sexual proposition of his own.

**_I’d like to take you out on a proper date when I get back_ **

**_We could get burgers at that diner in town_ **

**_Some of their pie too, obviously_ **

**_Go for a nice drive in Baby_ **

_I would love to_

_Could we also watch a movie after the drive?_

**_Of course, Angel, whatever you want x_ **

****

**XXXXX**

 

Cas was rather pleased with the direction their last conversation went, even if Dean skipped over his seduction. How could he be disappointed when the man he loved asked him out on a date so sweetly?

Still though, it was another 3 days before Dean was supposed to be back and he’d run dry on the seductive texts front. The three he had sent had limited success and were maybe a bit too vague. But then again, Cas didn’t want to explicitly tell Dean he wanted to have sex, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

He would have to go back to the list of tips to hopefully find something he could do for Dean once he got home, but for now he settled with more allusions to wanting to kiss Dean more. At least they both seemed in agreement on that particular front.


	3. Hug Him!

With texts mostly back to sweet rather than suggestive, Cas once against found himself on Jack’s laptop, six different tabs open with varying degrees of useful advice for the art of seduction. One of the tips in particular caught his eye.

_Hug him! When he’s just arrived home, when he’s about to cook dinner, when you’ve just had a fight, there’s only one act – a hug. Once you’re in his arms and pressing your body up against his, unless he’s suffering from hormonal imbalance, he’s going to shift his thinking toward sex._

Cas was pretty sure that Dean didn’t suffer from a hormonal imbalance, so perhaps this tip would work. They already hugged, occasionally, but he’d never given one for making dinner or when they’d had a fight. And when they did they rarely strayed from the kind of hugs Dean would give Jack or Sam.

It would be a perfect way to greet Dean when the brothers came back from their trip. And he could always slip in a kiss there too.

Besides, even if the tip didn’t work in getting Dean to think about sex, it would be nice to have more excuses to just hold Dean close to him.

 

**XXXXX**

It was late on Thursday evening when he heard the Impala pull up and soon after the bunker door creaking open. Normally they would wait in the library, giving time for whoever was coming home to drop off their bags and grab a beer; if they were hurt or anything was urgent then they would make it known. Which is why Jack gave him a peculiar look when he set his book aside and made his way to the hall, which Cas appeased with a placating wave of the hand.

Dean and Sam both looked tired from the drive but smiled when they saw Cas heading their way. Sam barely had time to greet him before Cas had attached himself to Dean, resting one arm low on his back and the other at the top of his spine, burying his face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He stepped even closer, slotting his leg slightly in between Dean’s and pushing himself as close as possible, relishing in the feel of their bodies touching.

“You ok, Cas?” Dean asked quietly, breath hot against his cheek, arms curling around to hold around his waist.

“Just happy that you’re home.” He rumbled out, the words muffled slightly.

“Cas,” he gripped a little tighter, sounding a little choked up.

The hug was so much better than the fleeting ones they had shared over the past few years, and he felt so incredibly safe and loved in Dean’s arms. He had almost forgotten that the end goal was to get Dean into thinking about sex with him, the embrace feeling sweet even with their bodies touching so intimately.

They were content to just stand there hugging, until they heard the bunker door close again. They both looked up to see Sam coming down the stairs, more of their luggage in tow. Sam looked at them sheepishly, and even looked a little morose when they pulled apart.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my behalf,” he said, the words normally said jokingly but he actually sounded serious.

Dean just rolled his eyes, pecked Cas on the lips and went over to help Sam with the bags.

“I’m happy to see you too, Sam,” Cas said, suddenly feeling bad that he had barely even looked at him when he came in, “Jack and I both enjoyed the documentary you recommended. It is truly wonderful to see how beautiful my father’s creations are.”

He positively lit up, “Yeah? Did you see the one with the snakes chasing the iguana? It had better action than any of Dean’s cowboy movies.”

“Hey!” Dean warned, “Cowboys beat snakes any day of the week.”

“I’m afraid that I have to agree with Sam, Dean. The iguana was very lucky to escape from so many predators, and in such a spectacular way. I would very much like to watch more scenes like it.”

Sam smiled smugly while Dean shot him a betrayed look, “Not cool, dude. I thought you liked our cowboy get up in Dodge City?”

“I enjoyed you wearing said clothes, you were very attractive in them. But in general, I am indifferent to cowboys.”

“Indifferent to cowboys,” Dean grumbled, busying himself with taking the luggage to his room, but there was slight blush to his cheeks.

Sam and Cas shared a look before the latter sighed and followed his boyfriend, “Don’t misunderstand me, Dean, I like to watch cowboy movies with you. I like seeing you happy.”

“It’s fine Cas, I was only joking,” Dean said, slowing his stride, and smiling, “We don’t have to enjoy the same things to enjoy being with each other.”

“Perhaps you would like to watch that documentary on bees with me tonight then?” Cas asked hopefully from the doorway to Dean’s room, only half-joking.

“Sure thing, baby,” Dean acquiesced, setting his bags on the floor by the bed, “But only if we watch ‘The Wild Bunch’ after.”

From his position Cas could see the beautiful curve of Dean’s back and down to his ass as he bent over to rummage around in his holdall. He was turned away slightly, the sharpness of his stubbled jaw and the slope of his cheekbone just visible as he enthused about the movie. He truly was beautiful. Cas moved closer, pulled by desire to hold him. He stood close, and as soon as Dean stood he pressed in ever further, wrapping his arms around Dean once more.

“Cas,” Dean said in exasperated fondness, pulling him close, “Not that I’m not enjoying this, because trust me I am, but I haven’t eaten in about eight hours and it’s kind of hard to cook like this.”

Cas just hummed, squeezing him once, twice more, before stepping away, heart full of warmth. Before he could move away completely, Dean cupped his face gently in his hands, bringing them together in a soft kiss, chasing his lips again every time he pulled away.

It was only when Dean’s stomach rumbled loudly in the hushed silence that they broke apart, exuberant.

“Come on, Cas, let me whip you up some Dean Winchester signature burgers.”

Cas realised later that he hadn’t even been thinking of the tip when he had pulled Dean close.

 

**XXXXX**

 

It really was extraordinarily easy for Cas to find reasons to hug Dean through-out the rest of the evening and even into the next morning; as a thank you for the burgers, a hug from behind as he washed up, all throughout their TV marathon under the warmest blanket he owned. Again, under the blanket in the morning, when the pair realised they had fallen asleep together in the Dean cave.

When Dean offered to make him breakfast, his voice deep and rough due to sleep, Cas enveloped him once again, nuzzling into his neck and savouring his warmth. He could feel Dean’s breath in his hair, smell his shampoo, something sharp and spicy, could practically taste his skin where his lips barely brushed. All of his senses were _Dean._

“Cas,” Dean began, the hesitance clear in his voice, “is something going on?”

Cas frowned, pulling back from the hug just far enough to look up at Dean’s face, “What do you mean?”

He rubbed his thumb soothingly across the exposed skin of Cas’ hip, “It’s just- you’ve been very clingy, I guess.”

“Clingy?” he’d only ever heard that term in movies, usually in a negative context, and his frown deepened ever further.

“Not in a bad way, I gotta say I love having you close to me,” Dean reassured, “But I’m worried. It’s almost like you think I’m going to disappear any second. Or that any hug could be the last. Just makes a man a little paranoid that something is going on.”

“Nothing is going on, Dean.” He answered earnestly, “I missed you when you were gone, even though we talked a lot. I missed being close to you, feeling the warmth of your soul. When I hold you like this I feel happy, and safe. Now that I’m allowed to hug you so intimately I find that I don’t want to stop.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, obviously, but even if it had started out as a seduction technique, it had quickly become more than that and Cas really did relish in the closeness between them when they hugged, the safety they felt in each other’s arms. Though with Dean so concerned maybe he could tone it down a little in future.

Well, after they finished with the hug turned make-out that Dean had pulled him into.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Cas was watching Dean again from his perch at the kitchen table, coffee burning his mouth as Dean expertly flipped another pancake. He has only started this charade yesterday but now the floodgate had been opened all he could think about was the next moment he could press his body against Dean’s, feel his heart beating within his ribs, feel his soul shining bright and wild and beautiful. This was so much more than the touches they had shared before, such an indescribable comfort to be so connected to this man before him.

He couldn’t help but think of the closeness he and Dean would feel without the burden of clothing, with skin pressed against skin, sharing every part of themselves with each other. If this tip wasn’t working on Dean, it was most certainly working on himself; he hadn’t felt so lustful in all his long life.

“Cas!” Dean’s voice waded through his thoughts, and Cas was struck with the realisation he had been heatedly staring silently at Dean for the past ten minutes, a stack of completed pancakes now piled up on the plate in the middle of the table, “There you are,” Dean smiled at him, but there was a little worry in his eyes, “Angel radio?”

Cas blinked at him, still a little dazed, but quickly righted himself, “Huh? Oh, no. I was just lost in thought.”

He looked slightly appeased, but the worry was still simmering, “Nothing bad, I hope?”

“No. I was just thinking about you, actually.” He said truthfully.

“Yeah?” Dean said coyly, pouring honey onto Cas’ food, “About our date?”

Truth be told Cas had almost forgotten about the date, too caught up in his owns plans. Now that he remembered though, he was very eager for it, “I’m very excited for it. When would you like to go?”

“I was hoping we could go tonight. Around 6?” Dean said around a mouthful of his pancakes. It wasn’t particularly appealing, but something about it was so _Dean_ that it was almost charming.

“Of course.” He agreed, reaching a hand across the table, and taking Dean’s in his own. His fingers were sticky from where honey had dripped down the side of the jar, so Cas leaned forward and licked the stray sweetness off his thumb, acting on impulse.

Dean stared at him with wide eyes, throat bobbing as he swallowed, but he seemed to like it if the flush on his cheeks was anything to go by.

“I know it’s early, but I would like to get ready.” Cas said, pressing a final kiss to Dean’s hand before releasing it to stand.

Moment forgotten, Dean frowned up at him, “What’s wrong with your usual get up?”

“I thought you were supposed to dress up for a date?”

“Well, yes you can. But you don’t have to.” Dean licked his lips, “You look good in your normal clothes. Well, to be honest you look good in anything. If you want to though you can borrow some of my clothes.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas smiled at him, “I will take a look at what to wear.”

“Do you want a hand? Not exactly a hardship to have you modelling for me.”

Cas thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that he didn’t. He wanted it to be a surprise for Dean, as childish as it seemed. Besides, he wanted to look at his list again to see if there was anything he could do on the date to entice Dean and he couldn’t exactly do that with him in the room, “No thank you, I want it to be a surprise.”

“Sure thing, baby,” Dean grinned, standing with their now cleared plates in hand and leaning over to give Cas a kiss.


	4. Wear Red!

 He made sure his door was firmly shut before pulling out the laptop, once again on the hunt for seduction tips; he was probably ninety percent of their site traffic at this rate. A lot of the suggestions weren’t really date appropriate, and he had to alter his searches just a little to find something suitable. It was difficult; he doubted that many people were looking for first date tips when they had already become monogamous with their desired partner. But he was adaptable, and it was with great relief that he found something he could work with.

_“Wear red! Due to the association with hearts, Valentine’s Day, lingerie, and things like that, red takes on a sexy meaning – your man won’t be able to resist peeling it off you!”_

Perfect. Red, he could do that, especially if it would increase the chances of the outfit being tossed onto Dean’s bedroom floor as the hunter stripped him. Cas felt the spark of arousal shoot through him but pushed it down. There was plenty of time for that later, now he had to find something to wear.

He wasn’t sure that Dean owned anything other than red flannel and that shirt that he had preferred as a demon (which he had _no_ intention of wearing), and he unfortunately didn’t have the pleasure of knowing if Dean owned any red underwear.

Sam though... Sam was definitely fond of his flannel but Castiel had seen him wear some smarter looking items of clothing. Making sure to clear his history again, he closed the laptop and headed over to Sam’s room.

**XXXXX**

“Sure Cas, I’ve got a few date shirts at the back,” Sam smiled at Cas, already getting up to rummage through his wardrobe, “They might fit a bit weirdly, but I don’t think Dean will mind.”

Sam really was a wonderful friend, Cas thought. He didn’t even blink when the angel explained to him that he needed clothes for his date, but then again, Cas had left out the part where he was hoping to seduce his brother. Though he suspected that even if he did Sam would still help him, with a little reluctance, he was just kind like that.

“Thank you, Sam,” he said sincerely, “It means a lot to me that you are so supportive of our relationship.”

“Of course I am, I’ve had to watch you two dance around each other for years,” Sam laughed pulling out a pile of three or four shirts, “Believe me I’m over the moon!”, his face softened a little and he turned back to look at Cas, “Besides, I just want to see my brother happy. And you too. You’ve both done so much good at the expense of your own happiness, you deserve it.”

“And you, Sam? Are you happy? You’ve done a lot for this world too.”

Sam looked down, avoiding Cas’ eyes, “I’m... I’m not the happiest I’ve ever been, but I’m content. Life finally seems to be settling into something normal. Well, manageable. Maybe I haven’t got the love that you have, but I’ve had that before, a few times,” he trailed off, thinking of Amelia, Eileen, _Jess_ , “But for once I can actually see a future ahead of us, something other than the apocalypse.”

Smiling gently at him, Cas pulled Sam into a hug, “You’re a good man, Sam. I’m sure there is a new love out there for you, and a life of happiness,” he squeezed a little tighter when he heard the man sniff, quelling tears; Sam was much like Dean, he had so many years of feeling like he didn’t deserve happiness that it was overwhelming for someone to so bluntly tell him that he was worthy, “In the meantime, when I was in town the other day I saw a flyer for a farmer’s market. Would you like to go with me sometime?”

The hunter pulled back, covering his obvious emotion with a burst of misplaced laughter, “Dean not so keen on it?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t asked him,” Cas said honestly, “I just thought it was something you would enjoy.”

“I would, Cas, really.” He sounded a little choked up, like he couldn’t believe that someone would see something, and their first thought would be of him. Cas frowned, he would have to ensure that in future Sam realised how much he was appreciated.

As much as Sam was more in tune with his emotions and vulnerabilities than Dean, he still was bashful at the gratefulness he felt and coughed to try and change the subject, “Right well, back to your date. Which shirt would you like to try?”

Cas took the out, perusing the array of shirts laid out on the bed. There was a beautiful forest green colour on top, one that he would have picked in an instant if he wasn’t following the tip, and he reluctantly placed it aside to view the others. Blue, black, even a rather ostentatious purple shirt that still had the label on. But no red.

“I don’t suppose you have anything red?” Cas asked, blushing ever so slightly as though Sam could see his reason for asking.

“Uh, sure, I just didn’t know if it would be your thing.” Sam said, looking at him curiously. He didn’t pry though, just dutifully went back to his closet and took out a muted red shirt, not so bright it would look tacky and comical, but just a little on the darker side. Yes, he could see why this colour may evoke feelings of sensuality.  

“Ah, yes, I think this is perfect, thank you.”

Cas wasted no time in stripping off his threadbare t-shirt, dropping it to the bed as he tried on the proffered shirt. He buttoned it up all the way, though it was pretty restricting around his neck. It was tight, especially across his shoulders and biceps, and a little long on the sleeves, but it felt nice to wear.

“Is this acceptable, Sam?” he asked, looking hopefully up at him.

“Yeah Cas you look great!” Sam smiled encouragingly, “What are you going to wear with it?”

“Oh... I was just going to put my suit on I guess.”

“Hmm, I mean you could if you want, but the blue would look a little odd with the red,” he said appraisingly, before moving forward and undoing the top two buttons, “Tell you what, borrow a pair of Dean’s black jeans,” he looked over him again, this time reaching over to roll the sleeves up to his elbows, “There we go.”

“No tie? Or suit jacket?” he frowned.

Sam had an amused sparkle in his eye, “Trust me Cas, you do not want to cover the shirt when your shoulders look like _that_.”

**XXXXX**

When he was finally ready, and it was nearly six, he made his way to the war room to find Dean. He hadn’t seen him since lunch, and his heart swelled with fondness at the memory of the man setting down a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in front of him barely a minute after he sat down.

He was a little nervous to see what Dean would think of his outfit, but mostly excited; Sam had assured him that he looked good and even Jack, who had to be talked out of buying a pair of crocs (which he described as ‘perfectly practical for cases, Dean, they are easily cleaned and provide comfort, not to mention the multifunctionality’) last week, had complimented the outfit. Though now he thought about it, maybe the latter’s opinion wasn’t so encouraging.

Nevertheless he headed to the war room, his usual boots tapping pleasantly across the floor. Sam had let him borrow his black coat, saying that it was still March and would look odd without wearing it outside, but for now he had it folded over his arm.

Dean was seated at the table, idly scrolling through something on his laptop. He looked up as soon as Cas walked in, smiling briefly before doing a double take and staring intently at him. He pushed himself up from the chair, visibly swallowing, “Wow, angel, you look awesome.”

“You think so?” Cas smiled coyly, meeting Dean in the middle to give him a kiss.

“Yeah, Cas,” he breathed, and his eyes kept daring back to his shoulders as his hands wandered over his hips, “That, uh, that shirt looks _really_ good on you.”

Huh, it seemed Sam was right in advising him not to wear the jacket. He sent a silent thanks, feeling a little smug as he felt Dean’s eyes drift back down to his chest. Maybe this would be the tip that actually worked.

**XXXXX**

Their date had gone very well, burgers at a local diner, pie to take away afterwards, and sitting on Baby’s hood to watch the stars. Dean had been staring heatedly at him most of the night, though it was clear that when he realised he tried to reign his thoughts back in. Cas obviously didn’t mind, letting his foot trace up and down the length of Dean’s calf under the table at the diner, and giving him what he hoped was sultry look. If the redness of Dean’s cheeks and the dilation of his pupils was anything to go by, the look had been successful.

Now though, Cas had rested his head on Dean’s shoulder as they sat on the Impala, hand feeling the movement of his chest with every breath, Dean’s arm wrapped around his back.

His eyes had long since left the stars, coaxing Dean into a kiss which was steadily growing more heated. Cas pulled away just an inch to speak, “Dean, I think we’d be more comfortable in Baby.”

Dean swallowed, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

He gently tugged Cas to his feet, but quickly found his lips captured again. Cas was walking backwards, Dean’s flannel gripped in his hands, guiding him to the backseat. As soon as the door was open, Cas let himself fall back onto the bench, wrapping his arms around Dean’s back to pull him even closer.

Dean kept himself propped up on his hands even as he devoured Cas’s mouth, careful not to let his erection brush against Cas. It made for an awkward angle, but he refused to pressure Cas into anything he didn’t want to do, no matter how turned on Dean was.

“Dean,” Cas moaned into his mouth, and he could have come on the spot, “Take off my coat.”

Stilling, the hunter had to collect himself. There’s no way he means that in the sexy way, even if it was the sexiest thing he has ever heard. He’s probably... too hot. Yes, it was getting hotter in the car by the minute and Cas always had like four layers of clothes on.

“Are you warm? I can put the AC on if you like?” Dean asked, breath laboured.

Cas pulled back a little further, bringing his hands to hold Dean’s shoulders, “That’s not what I meant. I meant I want you to undress me.”

OK, what else could that possibly mean? It couldn’t be? Cas wasn’t... he _had_ to mean something else. But as Dean looked down at the gorgeous man beneath him, those eyes giving him the most fuck-me stare he had ever seen, he couldn’t unscramble his thoughts into anything more productive than ‘holy shit I want him’. Taking the plunge, he kept his gaze fixed on Cas, looking for any sign of discomfort as he reached down to unbutton the red shirt, revealing more of that tanned skin that had been teasing him all night. Keeping his eyes locked on Dean’s, Cas tilted his chin up, turning slightly to the side to bare his neck in invitation in a move so hot Dean’s knees almost buckled. He learned in close, breath tickling the sensitive skin there and making Cas moan and grip him closer.

Which is when Dean’s phone rang loudly from the front seat, high-pitched trill cutting through the charged atmosphere.

Dean pushed himself back up to rest on his palms, dropping his head and panting heavily. Cas’ hands roamed from his back to trail down his chest soothingly. Dean pressed a quick kiss to Cas’ lips before he leaned over the back of the seat to grab his still ringing phone. He sat back onto his heels, answering the call with a gruff, “Hello?”

“Dean? Is that you?” Mary’s voice replied.

Well, any hope of telling the person on the other end to fuck off so he could get back to making out with Cas was out of the window, mainly because if anything can kill the mood it’s your mother’s voice.

“What’s up, Mom?” he sighed, climbing out of the back seat to cool off in the night air. He could see Cas sit up in the car, hands shaking as he rebuttoned the shirt. His hair was even more mussed than usual, and knowing it was because they’d been getting hot and heavy sent a thrill through him.

“I just wanted to say thank you for last week. I- know you didn’t really want to come, and I know the only reason you did come was because of Sam. But thank you for being there anyway.”

“Yeah, well anything for Sammy.”

“You raised him well, Dean. And yourself. I’m so proud of you.”

Dean looked down at his shoes, scuffing at the dirt, “There wasn’t really any other option.”  
  
And who's fault was that, he thought? Who sold their unborn son to a demon? Who claimed to want to leave behind the hunter's life but as soon as she came back she couldn't get away from her family fast enough?

“That doesn’t make me any less proud.”

The was silence for a while, Dean not knowing how to respond to the praise. He could feel Cas looking at him but didn’t want him to see the emotion clouding his face and he turned further away from the car.

“So,” his mother broke the silence, “What have you boys being doing today? Any new cases?”

“No, no cases yet,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been out with Cas.”

“Oh? Like a date?”

“Uh, yeah, it was a date.”

There was an awkward pause, “I interrupted your date, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, just a bit.”

“Dean! You should have said something! Now, hang up the phone and get back to your boyfriend.”

“Don’t- don’t say _boyfriend_. I’m not twelve.” He spluttered, but there was no heat behind his words. 

He could practically hear Mary roll her eyes, “Boyfriend or not, you get back to him. And make sure you use protection!”

“Mom!” but she had already hung up.

Well, she did seem to like abrupt goodbyes he thought offhandedly, the thought rising of it's own volition. He knew she was trying, but he couldn’t help but let his residual resentment mar every interaction they had.

And wasn’t that just great, that bitterness had resurfaced when he wanted nothing more than to forget about his worries and just be with Cas for one night.

He stared down at the phone for a moment longer, but quickly shook himself out of it and headed back to Baby. Cas has moved into shotgun while he was turned away and smiled encouragingly at Dean when he slipped into the driver’s seat beside him.

He ran his hands across the steering wheel, but didn’t turn the car on yet, keeping his eyes ahead and looking out at the expanse of sky in front of them.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Cas asked quietly, hand covering Dean’s.

“Not really. It’s just Mom, y’know.” He ducked his head, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s ok.” Cas reassured, and his voice was like a drug, soothing and calming in a way that he’d never experienced with anyone else before, “Would you like to head home? We could watch that movie when we get back?”

“I’d like that,” he said, smiling at him gratefully, trying to express all the love he felt towards the angel in that moment with just a look.

**XXXXX**

The drive home was mostly silent, the radio a low hum in the background as Cas kept his hand steadily on Dean’s knee as he drove. His thumb rubbed absentmindedly, and when Dean looked over to him the angel was staring out the window with a contented smile on his face.

He looked beautiful, his hair still mussed, shirt revealing that irresistible skin and fabric making his shoulders stand out in the most attractive way. He truly did look angelic, untouchable, and it was that thought that made Dean frown.

They had been so close to taking the next step, so close to Dean sliding his hands down Cas’ body and slipping under his belt. And, at the time, Cas had seemed eager, impatient even, but now... now that Dean thought back maybe it was his lust clouding his thoughts. Had Cas really wanted to have sex with him? In the back of Baby like another one of the conquests Dean left behind long ago?

Perhaps he was just projecting, he wasn’t exactly subtle at dinner, unable to take his eyes off the vision that was in front of him. Cas must have picked up on that, hell, he probably only asked Dean to undress him because he thought it was what Dean wanted, rather than of any desire of his own. Of course he would, Cas was even more self-sacrificing than Dean, of course he would offer himself up if he thought it would make Dean happy.

The thought made he feel queasy, and he quickly dropped his hand from the wheel to cover Cas’, squeezing it as a reassurance to himself more than Cas.

Well, Dean would just have to show him that he can be happy in a relationship without sex, that all he really needed and wanted from Cas was to be close to him, to have him by his side. He picked up Cas’ hand and brought it to his lips, placing a long kiss on the soft skin there, and smiled lovingly when his eyes meet Cas’.

Yeah, this was all he needed.

**XXXXX**

Cas was on cloud nine. Even if they had been interrupted by the phone call it was clear how things would have progressed if they had continued. He felt positively giddy, even more so with the affectionate touches Dean bestowed upon him in the car. He couldn’t wait until they got home, hoping that he would be dragged off to Dean’s room as soon as they got through the door.

But, as with most things in Castiel’s life, his hopes were dashed.

Dean had promisingly kept his hand low on Cas’ back as they walked into the bunker, staying close to him through the foyer, the war room, and the corridor to their rooms.

It was in front of Cas’ room that they stopped, Dean holding him by the waist and kissing him, pressing him gently against the door. It was deep and heated, all tongue and spit-slick lips and Cas could feel himself hardening in the borrowed jeans, his own hands carding though his boyfriend’s hair.

Which was when Dean broke the kiss, grinning down at him and pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling away completely, “I had an awesome time today,” he said breathlessly, “We should definitely do this again, maybe get around to watching that movie another time?”

“What? I mean, of course, yes... what?” Cas was a little dazed.

Dean just laughed fondly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

And with one last final kiss he headed over to his room, leaving Cas to hold himself up on shaky legs and try to work out what the hell had just happened.

**XXXXX**

After Cas had finally got himself together enough to stumble into his own room, he had lain in bed awake for most of the night, a mix of aroused, frustrated, and confused. He had been so sure that they would have sex tonight, after that display at dinner and in the car and especially against his bedroom door. How was he supposed to ever look at it again without getting aroused?

As it was he was still hard, and he found himself pushing aside his ruminations, hand trailing down to his cock, remembering the warmth of Dean’s hands against his chest, the feel of his hot breath on his neck as he was about to ruin him, the wet slide of his tongue, deep and filthy, as he pinned him to the door. It barely took him ten minutes to spill over his hand, the quiet cry of ‘Dean’ on his lips like a prayer as he pumped his dick the last few times in ecstasy.

It was a testament to how much he been masturbating of late that he scooped up the last of his newly acquired bedside tissues with practiced ease, cleaning himself up and dropping them into the steadily filling trash can in the corner.

As relaxed as he was now, he still felt desire coursing through him that he suspected would only really settle once Dean got his hands on him. The thought made him shudder and his spent cock twitch against his thigh.

He allowed himself to dwell back on the matter at hand. Everything up until Dean’s departure had indicated that Dean had wanted him, so he couldn’t understand why the man would leave. Though he supposed that the phone call from his mother had soured the mood a little; perhaps he simply wanted to sleep with Cas when he was in a different frame of mind?

Or... perhaps he didn’t want to sleep with Cas at all? He knew love and sex weren’t mutually exclusive, and that Dean only found a select few men attractive. Maybe he wasn’t one of them?

But the way he had looked at him! The same look at had once seen directed at diner waitresses and single women in bars, only tinged with that ever-present fondness that he knew was reflected in his own eyes.

He drifted off into an uneasy sleep, thoughts bouncing back and forward and not coming to any real conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing Dean as bisexual, but with a clear preference for women. There are obviously men he finds attractive, but he's got pretty high standards in that department (standards which Cas just so happens to meet) so he rarely acts on them. That being said he's had experience with men before at various points in his life. 
> 
> Cas I would say is demi-sexual... I think with April he did trust her and had that emotional vulnerability that made him feel connected to her at the time, which is why her betrayal is so awful. I suppose the conversation about his sexuality has come up, probably between Cas and Sam, and Dean overheard or something which is why he thinks Cas may have issues with trusting someone else enough to want to have sex with them, and assumes that Cas has written it off completely. And Dean is not going to try and persuade him to try again if that's the choice he has made.


	5. Smile With a Glass of Pomegranate Juice!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter just seemed to want to keep going, and I'm not even mad about it, even if this fic is now longer than my dissertation
> 
> Again feeling generous; next chapter is two-fer; and let's just say it gets loud
> 
> Also, there is probably excessive amounts of masturbation in this, but the guys are horny so sue me
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

His worries from the night before hadn’t been quelled by sleep, and he found himself shuffling to the kitchen a little more morosely than usual. If Dean didn’t want to sleep with him then he would accept that happily because he loved him and the intimacy they shared already was more than enough, but it didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little to think his, let’s face it, very sexual boyfriend might not think he was sexually attractive.

The kitchen was empty, but the coffee was still warm in pot and there was a plate of pancakes waiting for him on the countertop, a scrap of paper placed on top of the saran wrap.

Coffee in hand, he plucked up the note and groggily read the message, his smile widening at the words written in Dean’s messy scrawl.

 

_Morning Sunshine,_

_Gone shopping with Jack, I’ll pick you up some lunch._

_I was going to bring you breakfast in bed but then_

_I remembered the last time I tried to wake you before_

_10 am and came to my senses!_

_I love you x_

 

All his thoughts from earlier were banished and he felt tears well up in his eyes. How could he ever be even a little disappointed in their relationship? It didn’t matter if they waited years to have sex, if they never had sex, if they had it tomorrow, he loved Dean and Dean loved him too. And as much as he had grasped that concept before, it was hard to remember what it really meant when he was only abstractly thinking about it. What weight did sexual attraction have against love? What relevance did it really have? Love was acceptance and compromise and affection and friendship and devotion and passion. It was _love_.

He smiled down at the note affectionately, tracing a finger over Dean’s words. Trust him to say the words for the first time in a note, but Cas couldn’t even pretend to be mad. He drained the last off his coffee, leaving the pancakes for now, and took the note to his room, carefully cradling it between his fingers.

He opened his bedside draw, pulling out the beekeeping book Sam had gifted him and gently placed the note between the pages to keep it safe. Putting the book next to the mix tape Dean had given him, he grinned the whole way back to the kitchen.

**XXXXX**

Cas was just washing the pancake plate, as well as the few other dishes that had been unceremoniously dumped into the sink, when Dean and Jack returned laden with shopping bags. He threw them both a smile over his shoulder, hands soapy but still a little sticky from the honey he’d drizzled onto his breakfast, “Hello Dean, Jack.”

“Hey, angel,” Dean greeted, pecking his cheek as he passed with bags full of food for the refrigerator.

“Cas! Look what Dean bought me!” Jack enthused, wrestling a cardboard box from one of the plastic bags. He would normally scold the pair of them for not taking the reusable canvas bags, but he was in too much of a good mood to comment on it this morning, “Dean says it’s called a ‘lava lamp’. Isn’t it amazing?”

He displayed the box proudly to Castiel, that innocent boyish smile wide on his face as he looked to his pseudo-father for approval. Cas shook the suds off his hands, drying them on the towel nearby as he turned to face his son, “I love it, Jack. You’ll have to show me how it works.”

It didn’t matter what was in Jack’s hands at that moment, his words would have been the same regardless. He thanked Chuck every day that he had made the choices he did with Kelly and Jack, that the boy had turned out so pure and good.

“Well, Dean says it’s not _actual_ lava, just this special type of goo,” he said, practically tearing into the box to pull out the lamp and show Cas the pink blobs inside that were gently resting on the bottom, “Isn’t it fascinating?”

Dean snorted beside him, rummaging through another bag and ruffling Jack’s hair when he stood, “Just wait until you plug it in. It lights up and everything.”

“Really?” Jack’s eyes shot up to look at Dean almost awed.

“It is called a lava _lamp_ , Jack,” he rolled his eyes, putting away the last of the groceries, “Tell you what, why don’t you go show Sam and see if he’ll help you set it up in your room, ok?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically, slipping the lamp back into the box and scooping it off the table. He had almost skidded out of the room before he stopped himself, turning hesitantly back into the kitchen. He dithered for a moment, then surged forward and wrapped his free arm around Dean, hugging him tightly, “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean huffed a little at the impact, but patted Jack’s back fondly, “Don’t worry about it, kid.”

With one last squeeze Jack let him go, practically bouncing out of the room with the box tucked under his arm.

Cas turned back to the sink with a broad smile, plunging his hands into the now lukewarm water and enjoying the feel of it around his hands. When he was still a full angel he had never been able to experience simple sensations like this, never felt the wrinkling of his skin from the water, the soapy slide of the dish soap, the satisfaction of drying wetness from his fingers.

The whole bunker knew of his proclivity towards washing up, and often left their dishes specifically for him to clean up. Sam had complained at first, saying they were taking advantage of him to do the housework, but once he saw the serene look on Cas’ face as he tackled the dishes one evening he let it rest.

He had slipped into that very serenity when he felt Dean’s arms wrap around him from behind, cheekily dipping under his shirt and caressing the skin of his stomach. Cas’ breath hitched at the contact, and his knees shook a little when Dean nuzzled into his neck and placed soft kisses there.

“Mmm, is this mine?” he asked rhetorically, tugging just a little at the t-shirt Cas was wearing, “I love seeing you in my clothes, angel.”

Cas wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking last night, the roaming hands and kisses pressed into his neck were more than enough to confirm Dean found him attractive. And he was almost sure he felt Dean’s hardness pressed against him for a moment before the other man tilted his hips away. He was foolish to think Dean didn’t want him, too ready to jump to conclusions based on his own perceived inadequacy to see what was right in front of him. He’d always berated Dean for doing the same thing; perhaps it was time to take his own advice.

“You’re affectionate this morning,” he commented, if only so he didn’t moan and beg Dean to press up against him again.

The hands slowed to a stop, pausing where they were buried up under the shirt. Cas almost whined, “I didn’t mean for you to stop,” he said, “I like this. A lot.”

Reassured, Dean rested his head against the side of Cas’, breathing in the scent of his shampoo while he rubbed circles on his hips, “Yeah, well, what can I say? I like you. Liked our date. Liked kissing you, holding you.”

“I know,” Cas smiled, “I got your note.”

“Yeah?” Dean pressed a kiss to his neck, then up to his jaw, then a sweet thing on his cheek.

“I love you,” Cas divulged and, really, he had to say it, didn’t think he could have stopped the words even if he wanted to, his heart was so full.

There was another pause, before he felt Dean gently turn him around, hand cupping his face and thumb running along his cheekbone, “I love...” he inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and Cas wrapped his arms around his waist to pull him close, “I love you too,” he breathed out, eyes opening to lock onto Cas and shaky breath ghosting over the angel’s lips.

They kissed for a long while, deep and loving, hands still; this was not about their bodies but about their souls, about their kisses reaffirming the words for them.

“Cas! Dean!” they heard Jack should from the corridor, “You _have_ to come see this! The lava lamp looks awesome!”

Dean huffed a laugh, ducking his head down, “Kids, eh?”

  **XXXXX**

The four of them spent the rest of the morning in Jack’s room, the Nephilim practically holding them hostage there while he excitedly showed them the lava lamp, then the knitting project he had apparently been working on, then some cat videos he’d found on his laptop.

Dean grumbled most of the time, but Cas could tell from the soft look in his eyes and the gentle arm around his waist that he didn’t mean it, that he was relaxed and happy for once.

Well until Cas was eyeing the cats a little too intensely, gaze flicking back hopefully to Dean’s every time one did something cute. Which was a lot.

“No, Cas,” he said eventually, sending him a stern look.

“But Dean...”

“ _No_.”

“Just the one! Or two. We have plenty of room here.”

“Cas, we’re not getting a cat. And that’s final.”

Cas bristled, crossing his arms and leaning slightly away from Dean.

“C’mon man, don’t be like that.” Dean said, pulling him back in, “Who’s going to look after it when we’re out on a case? Or clean up after it? Or feed it?”

“I will,” he said petulantly, “Besides, it’ll probably be better behaved than you.”

“Me? What have I ever done?” he balked.

Cas looked at him, eyebrow raised, “Would you like a list?”

Dean met the gaze head on, aiming to be challenging but eventually both of their looks had softened and now they were just staring at each other longingly again.

Sam, who had been valiantly ignoring them during their bickering by showing Jack some other cute animal videos, was now rolling his eyes at them, lip curled into a smile. He thought they’d left though intense looks behind when they started their relationship proper but, evidently, they were there to stay. Not that he particularly minded, they were so happy together that it was impossible to resent them for it.

But then they had to ruin it by deciding to end the stand-off by making out, and on Jack’s bed too.

“Really guys?” Sam yelped as one of Cas’ hands was resting dangerously low on Dean’s hip, “We’re right here.”

Cas at least tried to look sheepish when they pulled apart, but Dean just winked at Sam and settled back with a smug smile, looking like that cat who got the cream, “Sorry, Sammy,” he said without a single hint of anything even resembling remorse in his voice.

**XXXXX**

That night Cas pulled the laptop out once more.

Dean had spent most of the day pressed close to him, touching him, kissing him. And sometimes he seemed to forget himself or forget whatever preconceived notion he had about Cas’ desires (or lack thereof), and things got wonderfully hot and heavy before Dean pulled away with a blush. Even when Cas dove right back in with enthusiasm Dean, by what must have been sheer force of will, refrained from going back to that oh-so-welcome pace. Cas flushed when he thought of the moment on the couch just after dinner, when Cas had boldly pushed Dean back on the cushions, the hunter’s hands actually coming up to cup his ass. He even got a good few grinds of his hips in before Dean had shuffled away and steered the kisses back to chaste, almost apologetic.

Cas had been a little worried he was pushing too much, and Dean _didn’t_ want this when he had slipped out the room shortly afterwards, but it was allayed when he had stepped into Dean’s room to apologise and heard Dean’s breathy moans coming from the shower and a very distinctive cry of ‘Cas’ floating through the door.

Needless to say Cas had immediately retreated to his room and, pants only shucked down to his thighs, jerked off right there against the door. He stared down at the new stain on the carpet, and it was with only some shame that he used his dwindling grace to clean it up.

He sleepily slipped under his covers, musing over the day. When Dean was distracted enough to let himself not second guess what Cas wanted he was so passionate, so _hot._ If Cas could only keep him distracted long enough to prove to him that, yes, that was an erection in his trousers, and yes, it is because he wanted to have sex with Dean.

So he pulled out his laptop once more, hoping there would be something on that website that he could use.

_“Smile with a glass of pomegranate juice! Medical science has it that drinking pomegranate juice enhances sexual desire. So, make him down a glass of the love potion and swing in happiness because he would have turned ten times more passionate.”_

Enhances sexual desire? Hmm, perhaps that could actually work.

**XXXXX**

Dean was in a bit of a daze. It was hard not to be really when he’d jerked off at least three times to memory of grinding against Cas on the sofa; once in the shower, once settled back into the memory foam, the sensation enticingly familiar to being pushed back on those sofa cushions, and once face down on the bed, explorative fingers daring to tease his hole as he came all over his hand.

But hell if he didn’t feel guilt creeping up on him instead of the afterglow. He didn’t mean to push Cas, didn’t want to pressure him at all, but once again his lust had clouded any reasonable thought and he mindlessly had thrust up against the angel. But one look at Cas’ face, at the wideness of his eyes and the redness of his cheeks so much like that night at the brothel before the end of the world, had him sobering, turning the kisses back to sweet and reassuring. He apologised with his lips, making sure that he showed Cas that he still wanted him, sex or not.

Lying here thinking about Cas was making his chest ache just a little, even knowing he was only a few rooms away. What if Cas was worried that Dean would only stay with him if they had sex? Maybe running away after he halted things on the couch had made the angel doubt himself? And thinking about it he had ran off the day before, too, left Cas against the door as though all he wanted to do was get a thrill from kissing and then was happy to sleep alone.

He needed Cas to know that it wasn’t what he got from Cas, the kisses or even the hugs, it was just having him near, knowing that he was there. And if he was honest he really just wanted to wake up next to him every morning, see that cute little pout and squinting of eyes as he groused at everyone in a mile radius.

**XXXXX**

Cas had headed out early that morning, even before Sam was up for his run. The disgruntled morning-shift workers he’d asked at half the shops in Lebanon weren’t very helpful in his quest for pomegranate juice, but he didn’t blame them; he was barely awake himself and probably looked as unhinged as he felt at the lack of coffee.

Eventually after heading into a health food shop with a perky assistant who was obviously a morning person, he managed to procure a bottle of the so-called ‘love potion’. It didn’t look like much, and when he sipped a little in the car to try it he scrunched his mouth at the underlying tartness. Well, Dean didn’t have to _like_ the drink. Hopefully one glass would be sufficient.

He stopped off at a coffee shop before he headed home, not wanting to be in a sour mood for the rest of the morning. He wondered briefly if he could add some of the juice to Dean’s coffee and have the taste masked, but it felt strangely dishonest. It wasn’t really a love potion, he knew, but it felt a little too much like drugging him for him to be comfortable with the thought.

Deciding to just serve it as is, he rustled up a simple breakfast for his family once he got home and was just serving it when Dean shuffled in with Jack in tow. Dean smiled sweetly at him as he made his way to the table, gathering up two of plates on his way to help Cas out a little, earning him a loving kiss on the cheek.

Before he sat down, Cas grabbed a glass and the oddly shaped bottle from the fridge, ignoring the quizzical look Dean sent him, “I saw this at the store earlier,” Cas said casually, pouring some out and placing it in front of the hunter, “I thought you might like to try it?”

Dean flicked his eyes from the glass to Cas’ face, a sceptical look on his face, “Cas, don’t get me wrong but-”

“Dude, is that pomegranate juice? I love that stuff!” Sam interrupted, striding into the room sweaty from his daily jog, swiping up the bottle and giving it a once over, “Mind if I have a glass?”

Cas couldn’t exactly say no, now that he’d poured one out for Dean, and he definitely couldn’t explain why he had it in the first place, so he reluctantly nodded.

“May I try some?” Jack asked, eyeing the wine-red juice.

Ok, this was getting out of hand. If there really was anything to the science of pomegranate juice, he really didn’t want to know the effects on Sam or Jack. Just thinking about it made him nauseous.

“Here, have mine kid,” Dean said, sliding the glass to him, “Sorry Cas but it’s not really my thing.”

He should have suspected that Dean would be averse to trying any fruit that wasn’t in pie form. But Cas had spent all morning trying to find some and he would not give up that easily. It there was one thing he knew that Dean could not say no to, it was a sad face and hurt voice.

Only feeling a little bad that he was playing Dean, he let his face settle into a frown, looking down at his shoes, “Oh. I apologize, Dean. I just thought...” he trailed off, probably putting a little too much hurt in his voice to sound genuine.

Heaving a put-upon sigh, Dean grabbed another glass and poured out an inch of the juice into the bottom, “Fine, I’ll try some of the damn juice.”

He slugged it back like a shot, grimacing as if were whiskey burning his throat. He licked his lips a little, face soured, “No offence Cas, but I think I’ll stick to beer.”

**XXXXX**

Regardless of whether Dean had enjoyed the juice or not, he had consumed it, so Cas kept a sharp eye on the him the rest of the day. And pointedly avoided looking too much into the actions of Sam or Jack.

By the end of the day, when they were alone in Dean’s room watching _Grease,_ Cas had not seen anything that could reasonably be described as enhanced sexual desire. Dean’s touches were the same as they had been the day before (at least before The Sofa Incident), their shared looks no more heated than usual. His kisses, while passionate and loving, didn’t morph into the desperate and intense kisses he associated with sexual desire.

Perhaps the amount of juice he had drank hadn’t been adequate? Dean could probably not be persuaded to drink the juice again, so perhaps it could be administered through other means? He had a few ideas, but they could wait until tomorrow, he thought, as he was cuddled up to Dean’s side.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean began as the credits rolled, jaunty tune still humming from the laptop, “Uh, would you like to- um, I would like it if you... y’know... stayed here. With me.”

Cas looked up at him from the place he had settled with his head nestled on Dean’s chest, “I have no intention of leaving, Dean, I’ve told you that.”

“That’s not- That’s great Cas, really awesome. But I meant, um, I’d like it if you slept with me.”

It took Cas a moment to process Dean’s words, but when he did his eyes widened and his heart sped up. Maybe that juice worked after all, he thought giddily. He pulled himself back to bring them face to face, leaving his hand pressed to Dean’s chest.

“Dean. I would like that very, _very_ much,” he said, dropping his voice low, meeting Dean’s eyes with a heated stare.

A smile spread across Dean’s face, “Awesome... that’s awesome.” He leaned forward and pressed a long, sweet kiss to Cas’ lips.

Cas was just about to deepen it, to run his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips, but Dean pulled away before he could, leaving Cas chasing after his lips.

“You can borrow some pyjamas if you need to. I can wear some too, if you want. Normally I just sleep in my boxers, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Dean said, gently pushing Cas off his lap, and heading towards the wardrobe.

Ah.

He literally meant they were going to sleep.

He should probably calm down and do something about his rapidly swelling erection, then.

“No, uh, just boxers are fine.” He replied, shifting on the bed, and if he spread himself out a bit to look a little more enticing then no-one had to know, except hopefully Dean, “You could never make me uncomfortable. I find your body very attractive.”

Well, he did make his trousers uncomfortable, but maybe now was not the best time to mention that.

Dean flushed, ducking his head. “Uh, thanks Cas. You, ah, you’re very attractive to me too.” He said, “I should- er, I’m just going to get a quick shower. Make yourself at home.”

And with that he practically fled into the bathroom.

Cas was very tempted to suggest that he join him but decided not to. While he did want to have sex with Dean (more and more desperately each day), he wanted it to be more than quick hand jobs in the shower. He wanted Dean spread out before him, skin against soft sheets and body eager to be explored by his mouth.

Well, his attempts to make his erection go away were going nowhere.

He cast a sideways glance to the closed bathroom door, the sound of the shower spray muffled. Dean wouldn’t hear anything...

No, he couldn’t.

That would be a gross invasion of privacy, to masturbate in Dean’s bed. No matter how hot the thought got him. No.

But he could not sleep next to Dean all night when he was so tightly wound without giving himself a little bit of release.

Sighing, Cas got up from the bed, quietly heading along to his own room. Dean’s showers were quick, but with how worked up he was and the thoughts of a naked Dean running through his head, Cas suspected he wouldn’t take long to come anyway.

 

**XXXXX**

Once he was under the hot spray of the shower he let out the breath he had been holding at the thought of Cas in his bed, barely clothed. Cas who told him that he finds his body very attractive as though that wouldn’t make him immediately run to the bathroom to quickly jerk off.

To be fair, Dean mused, he probably would have jerked off anyway, because sharing a bed with Cas would mean cuddling, and pressing up against each other in ways that are surely just romantic to Castiel but really fucking sexual to Dean, and he didn’t want to make his angel uncomfortable by having his dick pressing into him.

And ok that was a poor choice of words because now he could only think about pressing his dick into Cas and that was _not_ something he wanted to be thinking about while in bed with the man.

Reaching down out to palm his hard cock, he hoped that Cas wouldn’t question the length of his ‘quick’ shower.

**XXXXX**

Cas was just entering Dean’s room when he finally emerged from the shower, shoulders relaxed and legs a little like jelly. He looked startled to be caught, as though Dean hadn’t invited him to stay just half an hour before. He was in new clothes too, soft flannel trousers and one of Dean’s old t-shirts.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said quickly, shedding the pyjamas down to his underwear and crawling beneath the covers.

“Where’d you head off to?” Dean asked, curious, as he pulled a clean pair of boxers from his draw. He looked over his shoulder to Cas who was watching him intently, hesitating only a moment before dropping the towel to pull on his boxers. Hopefully Cas wouldn’t be too offended by the sight of his bare ass, considering what he had said earlier.

When he turned back around, Cas was lying flat on his back, looking a little dazed, but before he could say anything Cas cleared his throat and spoke, “I had to... speak to Jack.”

“Oh? Anything important?” Dean said, climbing in next to Cas. He rolled onto his side to face him, throwing one arm across his stomach to cup his hip. The skin was so warm beneath his palm, and Dean could swear it tingled where they touched. For once he was glad that he wasn’t younger, because even now his dick was valiantly trying to get up again.

Cas turned his head to look at him, face close enough to kiss, but they stayed apart for now, “No, not really. He just... thought that... that he had a case.”

“Yeah? Just when I thought he’d been getting better at spotting the real ones. What was it this time?”

“Um, just another... grave robbery. Yes. He, uh, thought it was zombies again.” Cas said, the tone of his voice odd, like he was unsure.

“You sound like something’s bothering you. Was there something unusual about it?”

“No, no. Nothing about the case.” Cas tried to reassure, “I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Your mojo been playing up?” Dean frowned, pushing himself onto his elbow to get a proper look at Cas’ face. He cupped his cheek, looking worriedly into his eyes.

“I had to use my grace more than expected this week,” he said, trying not to think about that fact that he’d had to mojo come off the floor _twice_ now, “I guess it’s finally caught up to me.”

“Alright, well you tell me if it gets any worse, ok baby?” he said, deciding to let it be for now. He leaned down to kiss Cas, stroking his thumb across his cheek.

**XXXXX**

Dean kept inviting him into his bed over the next week, and Cas kept up with the pomegranates, putting them in almost anything. He’d tried pomegranate ketchup, pomegranate slaw, meat braised in pomegranate, even a meringue pie with pomegranate.

Dean had liked the meat, and didn’t really notice the ketchup, but more often than not the little red seeds would be piled up on the side of his plate as he picked them out fussily.

This tip was obviously a bust, since Dean barely ate the things and even when he did he was no more sexual than usual. Cas was even more sexually frustrated than before, not having the privacy of his own to room to deal with his little problem and then having to listen to Dean occasionally jack off in the shower while he had to rush his own orgasm. It got to the point where he half wished that Dean would walk in on him masturbating and just take him then and there.

But he knew he would regret it if their first time wasn’t at least a little more romantic than that.

One of those times actually seemed to present itself though, about three days after he had seen Dean actually wince when Cas pulled a pomegranate out of the fridge. They’d just finished movie night, and it was unspoken now that Cas would be sleeping in Dean’s bed.

Dean was being a little more flirty than usual, and Cas flirted right back, before they both ended up passionately making out on top of the covers, still dressed, though with the way Dean’s hands skirted along the hem on Cas’ shirt they may not be soon.

It was getting to Sofa Incident levels now, but with Dean on top Cas was feeling even more aroused, his hands everywhere. Dean’s hands though, they stayed maddeningly above the belt, even if they were exploring Cas’ chest

“You can touch me, you know,” Cas panted, breaking the kiss and taking Dean’s hand to guide it down to the bulge in his pants, “If you want.”

The hand never made it though, because Dean snatched it out of Cas’ grasp and pulled back to sit on his heels, “Cas, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know Dean, I want to,” he said softly, trying to make Dean understand.

“No you don’t, not really,” he said, getting off the bed completely now and practically pacing the floor, “You only think you want it because I do but that’s not-”

Cas sat up and level him with a glare, “What’s that supposed to mean? I only _think_ I want to?” he said, anger rising, “Last I checked I knew my own mind Dean Winchester.”

“That’s not...Cas,” Dean rubbed a hand over his face, “Can we not do this?”

“No, Dean, we will do this,” Cas said sharply, “Because apparently you seem to think I can’t think for myself!”

“That's not what I said! You’re twisting my words, man.”

“Oh, how else was I supposed to take them?”

“Cas, you’re an angel and I-”

“ _That’s_ what this is about?” he barked out coldly, “Oh, I see. I can’t have thoughts and desires of my own because I’m an angel. Is that it?

“I’m not saying that!” Dean yelled, “You don’t have desires because you’re _you!_ ”

That stopped Cas in his tracks, so full of fury that he didn’t think he could speak. So this was the crux of the matter; Dean thought he was some clueless virginal being that didn’t even know what sex was let alone desired it. That he couldn’t want anything without instruction from the Winchesters.

Even after all this time, all this talk of ‘free will’ Dean didn’t seem to grasp that even if he did many things for the Winchesters, for _Dean,_ he did them because he wanted to. Not because they commanded it of him. The fact that Dean thought the only reason Cas would want to have sex with him was because Dean wanted to spoke volumes to him.

He drew himself up to full height, much like he did in the barn the first time they met, eyes flashing dangerously, “Fuck you, Dean.”

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

**XXXXX**

Cas was beyond angry. He wasn’t some blushing virgin, he was god damn horny and if his boyfriend was going to treat him like some sexless being then he’d show that asshole just the kind of sexual creature he actually was.

Screw the hugs and screw the cutesy texts and screw the fucking pomegranates. He’d deliberately avoided the more sexual suggestions, but he was going to pull out the big guns now. And then when Dean finally got his head out his ass and his cock out of his pants Cas was going to act just like the coy little thing Dean believed him to be and blue-balls him like he had done to Cas for weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel like I should clarify things as I'm not sure how well it came across;  
> Obviously we got a lot of Cas' point of view, which at times changes because at the minute he's just trying to find out why Dean is being such a cockblock and any conclusion he comes to keeps getting proven wrong by Dean, which is why it might seem like his emotions flit all over the place (that and my erratic writing style)  
> As for Dean; well he's still stubbornly stuck on the idea that Cas does not want sex, even when Cas directly says it to him, because as I mentioned last chapter, Cas has a reputation for being a self-sacrificing idiot so Dean just assumes that instead of his own understanding being wrong, it's Cas who is planning on grinning and bearing it when Dean fucks him
> 
> And voila, misunderstandings! Ah, my favourite trope.


End file.
